


A very short story

by lisachan



Series: Leoverse [305]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29517243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: Following their encounter at Florence's American Diner, Alex and Timmy decide to spend the day together. It's a very brief adventure.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Leoverse [305]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/30541
Collections: COWT - Clash Of the Writing Titans/Chronicles Of Words and Trials





	A very short story

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [There are no counts in America (Only princes)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29381934) by [lisachan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan). 



> **WARNING:** This story is an **AU** from the original 'verse. What happens in here has little to none correlation with what happens in Leonard Karofsky-Hummel VS The world or Broken Heart Syndrome. The characters involved are (mostly) the same, but situations and relationships between them may be completely different.
> 
> I am in love with this royalty madness. Expect me to come back to it, soon.

Alex never kissed a boy on the first date. Not out of modesty or any other similarly surpassed beliefs, but merely because he likes his boys to sweat it a little. He thinks very highly of himself, he’d feel like he was selling himself short if he just gave in after a few nice words and a pearly-white grin.

But Timmy— oh, Timmy. This boy is completely different from any other boy he’s ever met before – and not just because he’s a fricking prince. There’s something about him, in the ease with which he conducts himself, that sets him apart from anyone else. 

“I wanted to be a farmer, you know?” Timmy says as they walk up Ponte Santa Trinita and stop halfway through it to look at the river as it extends in a silver ribbon underneath them, “I was broken hearted when they told me I could never be one.”

“A farmer?” Alex laughs, leaning on the parapet next to him. There’s a nice breeze out here in the open, despite the warm summer temperature and the multitude of people crowding the bridge, moving past them as they cross it to get from one side to the other of the city, “Why on earth would _you_ want to be a farmer?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Timmy chuckles, sipping at his coke. It’s the third he drinks since they started strolling around the city, and Alex honestly can’t fathom how’s it possible for him to be so fit if this is the normal amount of sugar he ingests during any given day. “Farmers are great. And farms are heaven. I spent most of my childhood in one and I don’t know what I would give to be able to just go back there for the rest of my life.”

“Seriously?” Alex inquires curiously, “What kind of farm was it?”

“My grandfather’s,” Timmy smiles, “Well… my biological mother’s father’s, I guess. I’m not supposed to call him grandfather because by being adopted by my fathers I lost all rights to my mundane heritage, so to speak. You can’t go back from being royalty, apparently. Not even if it wasn’t your choice to become it.”

“I can’t understand why anyone would want that, honestly.”

“No, you’re right,” Timmy laughs, combing his wavy blonde hair backwards, away from his face, where the wind blew them, “I’m not complaining about my status. I know I’ve lived a privileged life and I’ve enjoyed it, mind me. It’s not like I regret my dads to have adopted me. But, well, that farm is one thing I lost. After I was adopted, I lost my right to it. Not that I could understand that, I was a newborn. For as long as my grandparents were still alive, my dads let me spend time with them on the farm, but once they passed, the farm wasn’t theirs to take, and it carried some debts with it, or so they told me years after, it was not convenient to buy it. And so it got auctioned off, and I never saw it again.”

“…oh,” Alex swallows, looking at him, “But… that’s sad. Especially if you liked it there so much.”

“I adored it,” Timmy keeps smiling, though his smile is sadder too. Somehow, that just makes it more endearing. “I was never again as free as I was in that place. My granddad took me around, showed me his job. He let me feed all the animals. He’s the one who taught me to ride on horseback without a saddle. And I knew so much back then…” the prince looks out at the river, his eyes growing distant and warmer in the golden light of the sunset, “I could tell bad berries from good ones. I knew what time the sun set and rose at different times of the year. And I knew all the seasonal fruits and vegetables. And— oh, I could tell when the pigs were hungry judging by their oinks.”

Alex bursts into laughing, “Get out of here!”

“No, I’m serious!” Timmy laughs too, turning to look at him, “Pigs are incredibly intelligent animals, they’re emotional and empathetic. They can make sure you know what they need, if they really need it. I’ve had some of my most interesting and emotionally affecting conversations with pigs.”

“That only shows you never had much interesting conversations with normal people!” Alex laughs even more.

Timmy chuckles, shrugging lightly. “That is also true, but takes nothing away from the pigs.”

Alex snickers, shaking his head. “I struggle to picture you among farm animals. I mean, I don’t wanna offend you, but you look…”

“...quite posh?”

“I would’ve gone for something stronger, but…” he chuckles, “Yeah, let’s say posh. You don’t look like someone who belongs in a farm.”

“Well, you know what they say, don’t judge a book…”

“Besides, not only was I raised in a farm, but I actually still live in one, so who am I to speak.”

Timmy’s jaw just drops as he looks at him with his eyes wide open. Alex can’t help but feel a little proud at how amazed the prince looks right now. “Are you serious?”

“Yep! You wouldn’t say it by looking at me, would you? And yet. My dad’s a proper farmer, he’s got the cows and the pigs and the chickens and the fields and the orchards… and a vineyard, too.”

“But that’s amazing— where do you live?!”

“I’m not taking you home!” Alex laughs.

“Why not?!” Timmy complains, sounding immediately disappointed, “I’d just say hi to the pigs and you wouldn’t even notice me.”

“Ah, right, okay,” Alex grins, crossing his arms on his chest, “So that’s the only reason you’d come home with me, isn’t it? To say hi to the pigs.”

Alex wasn’t expecting Timmy to pick up on his innuendo right away, so he’s pleasantly surprised when he does. “Why, you think you’ve got something else to show me?” he grins. His smile is radiant and somewhat mysterious. There is a world, hidden behind this boy, a world Alex cannot fathom, he cannot even imagine it. And yet, this world, which must be incredible, so rich and colorful, so full of possibilities, seems nothing compared to him. Royalty is not the main character in Timmy’s story. His smile is. His clear blue eyes are. The way he passes his fingers through his messy hair to comb them out of his face, the way he wears his shirt’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his way of looking away and get lost inside his memories when he’s telling one, those are the main characters. Royalty’s nothing but the nice backdrop.

And this is what prompts him to get closer. To close the distance between them. As he places a hand on Timmy’s chest, hooking his index and middle fingers around the v-shaped neck of his shirt, Alex finds himself not giving a flying fuck about this guy’s heritage, how much money he must have and how incredibly handsome he has to be with a crown on his head. He only wants to kiss him because he keeps smiling looking at river Arno. He wants to kiss him because he ordered Oreo cake at the diner. He wants to kiss him because he’s a goddamned prince and he wants to be a fucking farmer.

So he reaches out for him, and he pulls him slightly down. And then he kisses him.

“I’m not taking you home…” he whispers against Timmy’s lips, his breath a little shaky after he forgot how to breathe while they kissed, “But if you’re staying close…”

“I’m at the Savoy,” Timmy mutters quickly on his mouth, before kissing him again.

Alex grins. “Of course you are,” he says. Then he holds his hand and drags him off the bridge.

*

He’s never been more excited than he is now. Timmy sets his body on fire, he’s so passionate, so intense, that Alex can’t even breathe. Timmy keeps kissing him, stroking him, tugging at him, and in between all this pushing and pulling Alex loses himself a little, and instead of holding back, like he usually does when he’s with someone, he lets himself go.

Part of it is knowing that this boy, no matter his title and his richness, is just passing in his life. Alex doesn’t delude himself, not even for a moment, into believing he might stay for more than these couple weeks he planned to stay. They will have fun, they will spend some time together, and then at some point, without forewarning, they will be together doing something trivial like drinking spritz in some nice little bar on the riverside and Timmy will tell him he’ll be gone the next day, and it will be perfectly fine. Timmy is inconsequential in his life, and it is okay that he is. It is good, actually. It doesn’t always and only have to be true love. It can be just fun. This is going to be just fun.

But, admittedly, that’s not the only reason why he allows himself to completely let go. There’s another reason, and it’s perhaps even more important.

Alex _knows_ – he senses it in the turmoil agitating his insides right now – that they’re going to go all the way.

This is going to be his first time.

Alex never really fantasized about his first time – he fantasized about sex in general, of course, many, many times, but not specifically about how his first time would happen, and with whom. He finds himself most agreeing with the choice destiny, or casualty, or life, or whatever, made for him. Timmy’s good-looking, he’s weird in an enticing way, he’s got a smile to die for and oh, Christ, he can use his hands. Alex gasps when Timmy touches him between his legs – they’re in the hall of the suite he’s booking at the Savoy, because of course he couldn’t have a normal room, no, he’s got a whole fucking mini-apartment on the top floor, and Alex is all pressed against the wall as Timmy kisses him wildly, and suddenly his hand is between his legs, and he’s palming him hard and slow, up and down, up and down, finding the shape of his hard-on and half-closing his hand around it to stroke him better, and Alex moans, tilting his head back so suddenly he hits it lightly against the wall.

“Ow…” he whimpers, an uncharacteristic sound for him, and Timmy chuckles, his lips pressed against Alex’s throat. The sound vibrates in the air and on his skin, and Alex raises both hands and lets them land on his shoulders. He feels him underneath the light fabric of his shirt, and then he lets his fingers find their way underneath his collar, searching for more warmth, for his pulse point, for more closeness.

He feels the shape of Timmy’s collarbones with his thumbs and then his hands slide downward as he starts rubbing down against his hand. Being touched like this through his clothes feels heavenly and frustrating, it’s working cruelly on his excitement, pumping it, making it rise up. He wants more – that’s why he starts unbuttoning Timmy’s shirt, because he wants more, he wants to feel more, see more, know more.

It really doesn’t matter that this is going to end soon, really. The only thing that matters is that it’s happening.

He pops open button after button, baring Timmy’s chest to touch it and kiss it. Timmy exhales, there’s pleasure dripping in his voice and Alex finds himself both amused and proud of it. There’s something funny in Timmy’s abandon, in the passionate way he whispers his name as though he had never whispered any other name before. Alex is sure he must’ve had a thousand girlfriends, a thousand boyfriends, and yet he speaks his name and it feels new on his lips. And Alex can think, just for one moment, that Timmy never belonged to anyone before him. And he can delude himself that he belongs to him, if only for today.

They end up on the bed, Alex couldn’t really say how. Timmy’s on top of him, and he’s powerful and strong, his body’s lean and muscled and he uses it well, he uses it to pin Alex down against the mattress, to weigh on him just the right way. Alex feels his shape, the shape of his taut, powerful body, against his own, and he wants to be overwhelmed. So he parts his legs, and Timmy falls in between them, and one second after he’s rubbing his cock against him, teasing him, riling him up.

Alex moans louder, he scratches Timmy’s back. Timmy hisses and calls him wild cat, Alex loves it. So he scratches him again, eight long red swollen lines up across Timmy’s shoulder blades, and Timmy hisses again, and then lets out a breathless chuckle, and Alex loves that too. He thrusts upwards and rubs back hard against him, Timmy matches his movement pushing him down and his cock slips between Alex’s buttocks, brushing wetly against his opening. Timmy lets out a broken moan that’s as desperate as Alex wanted him to sound, and it’s the final thing Alex needs, he knows that, to convince himself, to be absolutely sure.

“Tell me you have a condom,” he mutters urgently.

Timmy chuckles. “I don’t,” he says, “I wasn’t supposed to end up like this at all. We’re lucky this hotel has great room service, though,” and he reaches out to open the first drawer of the nightstand. There, next to a courtesy bath set, a map of Florence and elegant cards of all the best restaurants in town, there’s also a box of Kleenex and a couple of condoms. All branded after the hotel, of course.

“Classy,” Alex chuckles as Timmy brings one to his mouth and tears the package open with his teeth. It’s sexy as fuck, rough and dirty without any kind of shame. Alex just adores it.

“Aren’t we gonna use them just because they’re branded?”

“You kidding me?” he chuckles. He vaguely wonders if he sounded childish as he laughed like that. Then he forgets about it. “Put it on, big boy. Show me what you’ve got.”

Timmy grins. And then he does it.

*

They lie down together, side by side, after it’s over. Alex can’t stop staring at the ceiling and replay it in his head. The way Timmy kissed him all through it. How he never stopped moving. The feeling of his cock as it made its way within him. It didn’t hurt half as much as Alex was prepared to bear. And the way Timmy’s hands kept moving on him, up along his arms, down around his waist. How nice it felt when he started jerking him off. The white flash he saw when he was overwhelmed by his own orgasm, and how fucking handsome Timmy looked when he came too, a minute or so after that.

He never fantasized about his first time. But he hoped it would be something to remember, and in that he has not been disappointed.

“Was it your first?” Timmy asks as he distractedly plays with the longer locks of hair on Alex’s nape.

“No,” Alex lies right away, low-key panicking a little.

Timmy chuckles, leaning in to kiss him on his forehead. “Calm down, it’s okay. It would’ve been fine if it had been your first, anyway. You were amazing.”

Alex looks up at him, blinking slowly. “Of course I was,” he says dismissively, but he’s secretly begging for Timmy to elaborate on the concept. He doesn’t, though. Sadly. “What about you? What time was it for you, the eight thousandth?”

Timmy laughs out loud, squeezing him a little. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve got some years of experience on my resume, but eight thousand times? I doubt my fathers even got to that number. And they fuck like bunnies.”

“Jesus…” Alex chuckles, shaking his head, “I don’t wanna talk about your parents having sex.”

“Ah, sorry,” Timmy smiles apologetically, “It’s just, it’s such a regular part of my life I never think it could creep out anyone else that I know so much about it.”

“I don’t know exactly how, but the explanation only made it all creepier,” he laughs. And then he turns towards Timmy, and kisses him just a little underneath his ear, reveling in the little laughter he scoffs as a consequence of that. “Do you have plans for tomorrow?” he asks, trying not to sound too eager, “I’m free all day, if you are.”

And Timmy’s about to answer, when destiny, or casualty, or life, or whatever, feels it is time to burst the bubble it had blown around them, and Timmy’s phone rings. He’s got it on vibration but they both hear it, and even though a phone call’s just a phone call, and Alex shouldn’t mind it, something in the back of his head tells him he should be wary of it.

Timmy excuses himself and gets up from the bed. He reaches down on the floor for his pants and fetches his phone from their back pocket. He looks at it with a puzzled expression for a moment, and then his curiosity turns into a frown, and the frown into a nervous scowl. “Excuse me for just a moment,” he says. He turns towards the balcony and steps outside to talk. He closes the glass doors behind himself as he walks out.

The double glass makes it impossible for Alex to hear what he’s saying, but it is not thick enough to shield him from the disruptive notion that the phone call is changing everything. All through it he can see Timmy’s expression change, get all flushed, then distraught. He can see he’s raising his voice, at some point, even though he cannot hear it. He looks angry when he starts gesturing around and pacing the terrace up and down, up and down, without ever stopping. Then he starts speaking softer again. There’s pain in his eyes, in all of his face, really, and that’s when Alex gets scared.

The phone call ends moments after, but Timmy doesn’t walk back right away. He puts the phone down on the parapet, then leans against it, his forehead almost touching it, and he just stands there, breathing, for the longest time. Alex is grateful for those moments during which he can observe him, basking in the luxury of not knowing for sure what’s going to happen when he’ll be back.

But then Timmy comes back, and he looks tense and sorry and miserable.

Alex doesn’t need much to understand what’s going on.

“I should leave, shouldn’t I?” he tries. He can hear his voice falter slightly. He hates the sound and promises himself any other word he speaks is going to be rock-hard.

“…I’m sorry,” Timmy says. He looks down and he looks ashamed, something Alex never thought he’d look.

“Who was it?”

Timmy swallows. He obviously doesn’t want to talk about it, but he’s a good guy, that much Alex knows, even though he doesn’t know much about him, and so he feels compelled to answer. “I… told you about her, more or less, when we met in the diner.”

“Not exactly,” Alex shakes his head, “You told me about a bad breakup.”

“Yep,” Timmy sighs heavily, “That describes her perfectly.”

“So why would she call you again? If you broke up—”

“That’s why I call it bad, I guess,” Timmy cuts him short, “Bad as in poorly done. And like all poorly done jobs, unfinished.”

“…so you were never really broken up.”

“With her, honestly, it’s impossible to say.”

“What does that even mean?”

“No, I’m sorry—” Timmy groans, shaking his head and coming to sit closer to him, on the edge of the bed. Alex ever so slightly slides away on the mattress. “We _were_ broken up. But she called me and she wants to see me and—”

“And you’ve gotta go?”

Timmy tenses and doesn’t answer with words. He nods, though.

“Do you love her?” Alex asks then.

Timmy frowns lightly. “Why do you ask?” he says, “What would it change for you?”

Alex shrugs and looks away. “At least it would be of some comfort to know you used me and threw me away but you did it because of someone you really love.”

Timmy looks down. He’s so ashamed Alex feels guilty for saying all that, for a moment. But it’s only a moment.

“It’s much more complex than that,” Timmy finally says in a heavy sigh.

“Let me guess,” Alex tries with a bitter smile, “Royalty issues, I guess you’d call it.”

Timmy can’t even look back up at him. He nods again, and Alex knows it’s over. Whatever this was, whatever it could’ve been, before it could even start, it was over.

“Well, that’s been brief. Even briefer than I thought,” he chuckles sharply as he gets off the bed. He moves quickly around the room, retrieving all his clothes. All the while, Timmy avoids him like you’d look away from the sun during a solar eclipse. Alex puts his clothes back on, fixes his hair, wonders if he could take a quick trip to the bathroom and then decides he won’t. He wants to run straight back home, he’ll use the bathroom there. “It’s been nice, though,” he feels compelled to say when he’s on the door, about to leave.

Only then Timmy looks back up at him again. He seems lost and full of regret. Alex feels sorry for him, but whatever issue prince charming must have it’s not Alex’s issue to tackle. Not now. Maybe not ever.

“I’m sorry,” Timmy says.

“Yeah,” Alex offers him one last disappointed smile, “You said as much.”

And then he leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> COWT  
> This story was written for the second week of COWT #11 @ landedifandom.net  
> Prompt: M2, "A very short story"


End file.
